


Test session: ER-05

by Fruitencounters



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Consentacles, Dont worry i AM embarrassed, M/M, NSFW, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Robot Sex, Smut, Trans Gyro Gearloose, bondage kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:41:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28500942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fruitencounters/pseuds/Fruitencounters
Summary: Gyro builds a robo tentacle machine in his spare time and gets caught testing it.
Relationships: Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Gyro Gearloose
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45





	Test session: ER-05

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna add more tags later because tagging on mobile sucks. Wrote this when I was bored and it's just self indulgent NSFW, as a treat. I didn't proofread because im lazy ,'p

Gyro reserves the weekends where he has no oncoming deadlines specifically to work on and test personal projects. These are Fridays where he is unusually cheery and encourages everyone to go home early, and most of the time this works. When that doesn't do the trick, most of his interns have responded well to thinly veiled unpaid overtime that masquerades as "research opportunity on microbial life forms!" which plainly means scrubbing every inch of the lab.

Most of the time this works. It should work. Gyro's grip on the arm of his chair makes it creak under the force as the clock ticks just past 8:39 PM. He's gotten nothing done since 6 but Fenton is still live as a wire and bustling around the underwater laboratory like he didn't have toast for lunch.

Everything was ready. Gyro had spent small breaks in the day like usual making sure everything would be ready to go by the time everyone left. Manny left at 5:45 sharp like he had somewhere to be with dire urgency. Every Lil Bulb had finished whatever they get up to all day and had neatly powered down in their spot in their supply closet by 6:30. Gyro fidgets with the control panel in his desk drawer that temporarily disables the elevator, turns off the security cameras, and calibrates the HVAC unit to exactly the temperature and humidity that Gyro prefers (67° Fahrenheit and 50% room atmosphere humidity). He only legally be documented if he's not alone at work, but these are after hours. As he is the sole guardian of the security system at the bin, he more than easily just replaces tonight's would be footage with a loop of something prerecorded and innocent.

The duck's keyboard clacks come to a pause as he stands and stretches with a yawn. Gyro perks up and almost drops his remote in excitement.

"Headed out?" Gyro does a poor job at hiding the joy in his tone. While Fenton is curious, he does not inquire.

"Well… thought I'd head into the breakroom for a nap and get back at it in an hour or two." Fenton shuts his laptop. "I know you've got work to do, promise I won't make a peep."

At this, Gyro frowns. He leans back in his chair and cringes the smallest bit when he accidentally kicks the project hidden under his desk. "It's nearly 9, I don't understand why you're not just going home? It's been a long week. Never have I had an intern that doesn't leave on a friday."

"Why don't you leave then, Dr. Gearloose? After all, no board meetings are coming-"

"I seem to recall that this is my lab and I can stay in it as long as I please?" Which had some truth to it, but more transparently Gyro's apartment is an atrocious wreck and he's been sleeping on the pull-out in the breakroom for a week. This way, he's never late to work and he doesn't have to do the dishes, how practical! The only issue is it feels like he needs a crowbar or something to carve out 'me time'. "Look, I… that was rude, I've been working on that," he murmurs, "enjoy your nap."

Minutes pass, and Gyro anxiously waits until Fenton has disappeared and he doesn't hear a thing. After there's not a sound except the natural lab ambiance, he stands up and stretches. A few well practiced taps on the panel are muscle memory, and a light on it flashes three times indicating that it worked. He glances at the security camera in his line of sight, waits for the small red light to blink off, and then does the same for the elevator button. He smiles once everything is in order.

Checking his watch quickly, it's 9:17 and time to get to work.

Work is a generous term. His work ethic disguises what is bluntly, overzealous masturbation. What he has been developing is a rather high tech and complex machine, and every machine in development requires beta testing. He's carefully gone through every other stage of small tests and has finally carved out tonight and this weekend for user interaction. The scientist in him is thrilled but the hedonist is ecstatic. The scientist will take care of the careful time management, lockdown procedures, the guise of performing a test, and the hedonist will take care of disrobing and thinking or the headspace required to get excited. It helps, although an element of the device happens to be an aphrodisiac he's been developing. A cocky sense of pride swells in his chest at this, he has thought of everything and this all ought to be flawless.

He doesn't need to remove everything. Although he's a little jittery from excitement, he sits and removes his shoes and sets them neatly out of the way, stands and unclicks his belt, shimmies out of his slacks, then folds everything poorly and sets it to the side. No need to bother with anything waist up.

Plopping back down in his chair, he messes with his tail feathers a little with one hand while rummaging through his right drawer with the other. Out comes a sleek and appealing remote, a classy silver and white theme to match the boxy device tucked underneath his desk, out of sight. It has a satisfying weight in his hands, and feels sturdy.

Just a small twinge of nerves make him check the lights on the elevator and cameras, seeing that they're still off, everything is in order.

Sighing nervously, he finally turns on the device. Three sleek robotic tentacles promptly emerge from the box, silver with clear silicone and rounded ends, all uniform. Gyro feels lightheaded when two circle around each of his legs, gently pulling them apart and spreading them as wide as they go without hurting. They're a delightful sight, signifying that his creation hasn't suddenly broken on the last week or gone on the fritz. The cold air on newly exposed skin is not unpleasant yet, but it could be if left unattended.

A few taps on the remote and the currently unoccupied appendage starts oozing clear, thick fluid from its tip. There's not a lot of options for lubricating the entire thing in a practical hands-free way, but he opts to press a couple buttons to fix this. His legs are raised to elevate slightly but still hide them behind his desk. The machine engages and applies firm pressure in between his legs, sliding and twisting up and down between his folds, a soft "oh!" leaving his beak. He was unsure where the line was between his own natural arousal and the heavy aphrodisiac in the lube was, but everything gradually became warmer, vision slightly bleary, his elevated heart rate worsening. It felt nice. He lets it continue and tease as he's long since forgotten why he needs to hurry.

Somewhere in his foggy brain he thinks about his intern, and he toys with a small fantasy stored there, lost in it for a few more minutes.

His blood turns to ice. With his brainpower significantly dulled, it takes him more than a few seconds to remember why he is even able to hear footsteps.

 _Cabrera. Cabrera is here. He's woken up and is coming back from the breakroom_.

Fumbling with the remote doesn't help as panic sets in and he forgets which buttons to press in what order, and it can't risk them altering his position and making his current activities known-

It's all too late before he hears the lock on the door click undone. In a moment out of his control, the door starts to open, the remote slips from his grasp and skids off the desk, and the robotic cock between his legs finally _finally_ slides into his dripping cunt.

As Fenton steps in, unaware, the thick tendril pushes in slowly, slowly, slowly until it's all the way in, filling him up and pressed against his cervix, making his vision blur and his legs go numb. He can feel the blood leave his hands at how tightly his fingers are wrapped around his beak, clamping it shut as he does everything in his power to hold in every sound. It doesn't thrust, merely adjusts the smallest bit at a time, grows in diameter slightly until its filled every available space. The tentacle pulses and writhes before it whirs to life inside, vibrating hard and making him close his eyes tight. The regular sounds in the lab cover up the buzz, but he can't stop a small whine from escaping.

As embarrassed and scared as he is, the small part of his brain that can still think begs for it to keep going, he doesn't want it to stop. He can't make it stop discreetly without the remote anyway. The shame and danger of getting discovered is a mix of intoxication and horror that settles in his stomach like a lead ball, quickly melted by how terribly aroused he is. He wants to come so badly, if he was just able to press his legs together and put the slightest pressure on his clit, he's positive he'd orgasm immediately. However, he's kept on agonizing edge as the two tentacles squeeze tighter around his thighs and pull them a hair wider.

He almost chokes when he realizes Fenton is now a foot from his desk. Gyro feels like he's defusing a bomb as he carefully takes his fingers away, flexes them a few times, exhales carefully through his nose. He can't tell if he's shivering or if that's his imagination.

He has to know somethings up. Neither have said a word yet and Fenton sets a cup of coffee on the desk, far left. Distantly Gyro recognized his mug, chipped on the edge with a lightbulb design on the side, his favorite and only mug he keeps here. He doesn't really feel like coffee and doesn't have the cognitive skills to drink it at the moment, but he sort of nods politely to the gesture.

It's not hard for Dr. Gearloose to notice when he's being studied, in normal conditions. Normally he notices immediately and says something snappy, but nothing seems to come to mind. His hair is a mess, his glasses are dirty, tie needs straightening, he guesses that his pupils are dilated. His face feels hot and his feathers hide it somewhat. His machine shifts just so to put more pressure on his g spot, he gasps and instantly regrets it.

"Need anything? Besides to go to bed?" Fenton chuckles. He feels too close to be this oblivious.

"No! What? I'm fine why'd you think that?" Gyro all but yells, wincing internally by how his voice cracked. "Actually! Wait! Is there a remote on the floor over there, I think I… I think it fell off."

"Oh! Sure thing, this one?" He holds the one in question, in all of it's silver, futuristic looking glory, "May I ask what it's for?"

Gyro tries to lean over to swipe it, but his range is limited. "It's nothing! I swear, just give it back!"

"Looks like you want it a little too bad for it to be nothing" Fenton murmurs. He absent-mindedly presses an unmarked button.

It pulls out, and Gyro thinks for a split second that Fenton disengaged it, right until it pushes back in deep. The same button is pushed. It repeats its motion, pulls out until it just touches his entrance and then jams itself back like a piston, lewd sound from the force making his cheeks hot.

He keeps pressing it with natural curiosity until everything clicks, after Gyro's holding onto the edge of his desk and softly whining, panting, avoiding eye contact while he gasps and moans involuntarily. This continues until Fenton presses something different. The vibration slows to a stop, and it removes itself more quickly than he'd like with an embarrassingly wet sound. Out of subconscious disappointment, his hips rock forward a bit at the loss. No longer neatly hidden behind the desk, two more robotic arms find and coil around his wrists, and the four now on his limbs maneuver him up and pin him to the desk, laying on his stomach.

Fenton steps around to the side of the desk. With everything in view, Gyro's face burns with shame as he balls his fists tightly. He's angry that he couldn't just be left alone with this. Angry that this ruins an image of himself he upholds and reinforces around Fenton. Most of all, he's angry that it feels so fucking good to get caught, masochist that he is.

Once the initial shock wears off, Gyro sees Fenton almost playfully toss the remote back and forth in his hands. "The purpose aside, it does go without saying that this is quite a technological feat… it's actually impressive, how long did this take?"

"I'm not- I am not going to explain my process while it's currently holding me down on my desk. Sorry about that." Gyro spits sarcastically. He surprises himself by not telling him to leave as soon as he's able. This might as well happen, it's not like he had any other plans.

"Bit of an attitude for someone not holding the controls, huh" at this, Gyro glares, but he continues. "Do you want to keep going? Just say which button on here turns it off and I will."

"Cabrera I swear to god either you get the fuck out of my lab or you press something already!"

Gyro usually loathes the idea of being needy towards anyone, but maybe just this once he could try and enjoy it. Maybe. "If you even think about trying to make me beg-"

He pauses, freezes up when he feels the machine come back in contact between his legs. Not pushing in, just softly teasing and rubbing like before. He shivers. The remote has some small symbols beside the buttons that Fenton figures out quickly. Gyro does strive to make his inventions user-friendly, after all.

The duck casually walks back to his desk and grabs his rolling office chair, dragging it back with no hurry.

Gyro's brain feels like it's going fuzzy again, the mechanical cock sliding up and down effortlessly with the copious amounts of lube and Gyros arousal available. Dipping down and just barely catching at his entrance and then circling around his clit painfully slow. By the time Fenton wanders back, Gyro's long given up trying to support his head and is laying with it turned to the side, away from Fenton for now so maybe he can't tell that he's drooling on the desk.

He tightens and clamps down on nothing. Frustration starts returning as he thinks about the two-inch diameter rod that could be in him but isn't, no matter how much he wants it back in his guts he can't ask for it, he needs it rough and deep and _now_ but asking is too difficult right now.

Fenton sits, and rolls to where he's at Gyro's side, specifically the side he tried to look away to. Like anyone would, he takes a moment to bask. Who wouldn't be at least interested in laying eyes on stuffy, cranky Doctor Gyro Gearloose completely disheveled and indecent?

"You don't have to beg, but a 'please' would get you a long way, Dr. Gearloose," Fenton says sweetly, supporting his head with an arm propped up on the desk while he runs his fingers through off-white tail feathers. Through shaking panting, he's not as eloquent but at least gets the message across.

"There's a button- It's far left in the middle, please please pleeaassseee,,," he all but sobs, it's a little less humiliating if he imagines that it's just the aphrodisiac making him so desperate.

"This one?" Fenton asks with a grin, but he indicates the incorrect button on purpose and pushes. The machine whirs and Gyro cries out in surprise as he's lifted again, quickly flipped onto his back with his legs spread far and bent.

While he's still distracted by the sudden move, Fenton presses the button that Gyro wanted. The tentacle glides back in without skipping a beat and Gyro groans. It rocks back and forth, deep and fast, forcing short rhythmic moans and gasps out of him with every push. Fenton presses another button and the thrusting speed picks up. Gyro shuts his eyes and his toes curl, preparing for his imminent orgasm that gets a little bit closer with every push. After what feels like hours, Gyro finally tenses and twists against his restraints, moans and twitches as he comes hard on his desk, riding everything out until he goes limp.

A red button on the bottom of the remote disengages everything, and Fenton presses it. Robotic limbs retreat back into their box, and Gyro is slumped exhausted on his desk trying to take in air and get back to his senses.

"Feel better now? You certainly seem more relaxed."

"I don't think I can move right now."

**Author's Note:**

> IM SO TIRED GOODNIGHT!! if you read this, worry for grammatical errors. Its 4am


End file.
